


"How Many Angels ….."

by My_Alter_Ego



Category: White Collar (TV 2009)
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Difficult Decisions, Gen, Metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28338006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Alter_Ego/pseuds/My_Alter_Ego
Summary: The rest of the title of this story is the old adage, “How Many Angels Can Dance on the Head of a Pin?” It’s meant to be a metaphor for wasting time debating topics with no practical value while more important concerns should be in the forefront. This is the dilemma Peter is facing when his life takes an unsuspected turn. Of course, whatever he decides will have a direct impact on Neal, so a good man must come to terms with choosing the right path.
Relationships: Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	"How Many Angels ….."

Neal was twenty minutes late getting to the White Collar office this morning. He had stopped at his favorite upscale coffee house and had lost track of time while he chatted up a very pretty new barista who was sending out vibes oozing with pheromones all aimed in his direction. Neal was still smiling when he pushed through the glass doors juggling his hat and his drink, but his pleasant mood was about to be derailed. Peter had been lurking nearby and immediately accosted his confidential informant.

“Perhaps it may have slipped your mind, Caffrey, but the hours of our workday start precisely at 9 AM. If you find that interferes with your very busy schedule, please, by all means, tell me of the inconvenience. I can take that up with Hughes and maybe we can alter our schedules to suit your needs!”

After that sarcastic rant, Peter then turned and stomped—yes, _stomped_ , back to his office in a huff.

“What’s with Mr. Cranky Pants this morning?” a perplexed Neal asked Jones and Diana.

“We thought you might know,” Jones answered.

“Yeah, our money is always on you doing something stupid to get the Boss all riled up,” Diana quipped.

“I am not the bad guy today,” Neal held up his hands.

“You sure about that?” Jones looked unconvinced.

“Pretty sure,” the con man said as he thought back over his actions the last couple of days. Nope—nothing there that Peter could use to nail him to the proverbial cross.

“Well, something’s not right,” Diana said slowly. “He was all over me before you arrived complaining about the way I compiled some statistics for him. That’s really not like Peter to be so petty.”

“Maybe he had some kind of tiff with Elizabeth this morning and that’s sent him off the rails,” Neal mused.

“Ooh, women trouble,” Jones shuddered. “That’s a no-win situation, for sure.”

“Maybe you should go upstairs and talk to him. If it is something that concerns a female, you’re the expert,” Diana encouraged.

“Um, my love life hasn’t been what you’d call stellar,” Neal murmured, thinking of Kate.

“C’mon, Caffrey, man up,” Jones urged. “It’s gonna be one hell of a long road today if you don’t help straighten out Peter’s head.”

“I’m a con man, not a marriage counselor or some kind of magician,” Neal objected. “A smart man plays to his strengths, and poking my nose where it doesn’t belong would be foolhardy.”

“So, play to your strengths. Be a con man and then con Peter out of whatever is eating him,” Diana suggested. “We’re counting on you to fix this.”

When confronted by two insistent stares from his coworkers, Neal knew he was toast. “Fine! I’ll do some recon, but no promises,” he huffed out a sigh.

Neal stood, squared his shoulders, and with a dubious glance over his shoulder at Jones and Diana, made his way through the bullpen and up the stairs to Peter’s office. He waited patiently in the doorway until his handler acknowledged his presence.

“What?” Peter growled.

“I thought maybe we could talk,” Neal said evenly as he took a few steps forward, closed the door, and perched in the chair across from Peter. “Whatever you may think I might have done, I didn’t do it,” he began with an earnest expression.

Peter actually glowered. “Neal, regardless of what you may perceive, the world doesn’t actually revolve around you. You are not the center of the friggin’ universe.”

“I can live with that,” Neal produced a little smile. “But obviously something in your universe is off-kilter, and I was hoping I could help.”

“Well, here’s another newsflash for you, Buddy. You can’t fix everything, no matter how slick and clever you think you are,” Peter said harshly.

“Is it Elizabeth?” Neal asked meekly, ignoring Peter’s cynicism.

“What? No!” Peter spat out. “Why would you even think that?”

“Because your wife is the most important component of your world, Peter. You can probably deal with anything life throws at you without breaking a sweat, but dealing with family heartache is a whole lot tougher for you.”

“When did you decide to become Dear Abby and imagine you’re capable of doling out advice to the lovelorn?” Peter grumbled. “Well, you can just stop right there because this doesn’t have anything to do with my wife or the state of my marriage!”

“Then what, Peter?” Neal kept pushing.

A long silence dragged on until Peter finally laid down his pen and leaned back in his desk chair. “Since you’ve planted yourself in my personal space and have an inquiring, nosy mind, I’ll clue you in. I’ve been offered a promotion by Bancroft. He called me last night and we discussed the details.”

“That’s a good thing—right?” Neal whispered softly.

“It depends on how you look at it,” Peter drawled. “The position is certainly a step up the ladder. I’d actually be the Special Agent in Charge of an office in Washington. My old mentor, Phil Kramer, is thinking of retiring but says he’ll only leave if I’m the one replacing him.”

“Oh,” Neal murmured.

“Yeah—oh,” Peter mimicked his CI. “El and I talked about it, and relocating has an upside. The curator at the National Galley in DC has been after my wife for years to join his team. This would be a great opportunity for her as well as me.”

“Right, a win/win all around,” Neal agreed while keeping his face blank.

“Not exactly a win for everybody,” Peter said as he stared hard at his partner.

“I guess the Bureau isn’t going to allow me to go with you,” Neal finally laid it out on the table.

‘No, Bancroft specifically said you can’t leave New York, Neal. I’m sorry.” And Peter really did look disappointed.

“So, who’s going to take me on—Jones or Diana?” Neal asked quietly.

“Unfortunately, neither. Hughes said you’d probably run circles around them,” Peter answered slowly. “But I made it clear that the only way I’d agree to this new position is if I found the right new handler for you, somebody who would be a good fit.”

“Oh.” Neal was back to one syllable utterances again.

“Neal, until this thing is ironed out to everybody’s satisfaction, I want you to keep the details under your hat. I don’t want everybody in this office speculating about what’s coming down the pike,” Peter intoned somberly.

“Yeah, sure,” Neal tried to answer without any emotion in his voice.

After a blindsided Neal returned to his desk, he was in a somber mood as well. “Sorry, guys, I’m afraid I can’t be much help to you,” he told his curious coworkers. “ _Not now, and maybe not even in the future_ ,” was what he didn’t say out loud.

~~~~~~~~~~

“So, it’s a case of déjà vu, all over again, as the great Yogi Berra would say,” Mozzie scoffed when Neal clued him in a few days later. “Another father figure moving on and leaving you in the dust.”

“It’s his career, Moz, and Peter has every right to want to take advantage of this opportunity. Federal Agents who don’t get with the program aren’t asked twice. If they don’t play ball, they find themselves languishing in limbo until retirement.”

Yeah, yeah, take his side,” Mozzie griped. “So, any idea who your new leash holder may be?”

“Unfortunately, no. Peter has been spending a lot of time outside the office but he hasn’t brought any strangers around. So, if he’s conducting interviews, it’s off the grid. As far as I know, the timeframe is still up in the air. If he does settle on someone, he’d have to vet them with Hughes and probably Bancroft before it’s a done deal.”

“Do you think he’d arrange a face-to-face for you before the hammer comes down?” Mozzie asked. “At least you’d have some inkling of who would be riding herd on your butt and I could delve down deep and get the skinny.”

“He hasn’t said anything like that,” was the morose answer.

“I could shadow him to see who he’s meeting in these off the grid trysts,” Mozzie offered. “Being forewarned means being forearmed.”

“Mozzie, I hate to tell you, but you’re not quite as unobtrusive as you think you are,” Neal replied wryly.

“It was a thought. No need to get testy or insulting,” the little man pouted.

“Look, Moz, I managed to survive almost four years in prison, so I guess I can withstand three more working for someone on the outside, no matter how irritating or overbearing he or she might be,” Neal sighed.

“This unknown entity might reduce your radius,” Mozzie theorized, making things seem even worse. “Or he may insist that you move out of these comfortable digs and into some roach motel. I’m just saying that it’s not outside the realm of possibility.”

“Thanks for your support, Moz,” Neal frowned. “Now, why don’t you finish your wine and hit the road.”

~~~~~~~~~~

After Mozzie departed looking chastised and melancholy, Neal revisited his situation. He concluded that he really had been lucky that Peter decided to take a chance on someone who had plucked his nerves and been his nemesis for years. He could have just laughed and walked away without a backward glance, leaving Neal to spend another four years in a dangerous predicament. And Peter had been especially kind and supportive after Kate had perished. It wasn’t some act—it had felt real and comforting to a young man overwhelmed with grief. After Neal had suddenly lost the focus of his life, he was able to find his way back again, thanks to Peter Burke. So, how could Neal fault his handler for taking measures to improve his own situation. Peter was right when he said the world didn’t revolve around Neal Caffrey.

In the weeks that followed, Peter’s attitude improved somewhat, although he appeared more distracted rather than focused on the current cases on his desk. He was into delegating things to Jones and Diana, and although they never complained, it was a bit perplexing to them because Peter had always been a hands-on type boss.

“Peter’s acting squirrely,” Jones uttered one day at lunch as he stared at Neal. “He’s out of the office more than he’s in it. Are you sure you aren’t privy to what’s got him so preoccupied?”

“Meetings of some sort, I guess,” Neal shrugged. “He hasn’t confided in me about his comings and goings, so I guess it’s above my paygrade.”

“Caffrey, are you being straight with us?” Diana demanded.

“I swear, guys, I have no idea who he’s meeting, if that’s what he’s really doing,” Neal said firmly.

“Do you think he may be sick and getting some kind of daily treatments?” Diana whispered worriedly. “I can’t even say the word I’m thinking out loud.”

“He looks healthy to me,” Neal tried to put that fire out as quickly as possible. “Look, guys, he doesn’t owe us an explanation about how he’s spending his time. Stop thinking dire thoughts because they could snowball into an unnecessary avalanche.”

“I would think that if anyone was chomping at the bit to know, it would be you,” Diana challenged.

“I can honestly say that I really don’t want to know,” Neal answered truthfully. Maybe it was cowardly on his part, but Neal would prefer to just pretend it all wasn’t happening, and that one day he wasn’t going to be confronted by some menacing stranger who wouldn’t trust his new CI as far as he could throw him.

~~~~~~~~~~

One morning about three weeks later, Peter gave Neal the two-fingered summons, and an apprehensive young man trotted up the steps to his handler’s office with a questioning look on his face.

“Sit down, Neal, we need to talk,” Peter said very seriously as he reached around his CI to shut the door for a bit of privacy.

Neal expected to hear his ultimate fate and perhaps the identity of his new boss. Instead, he was surprised when Peter started the conversation with a question. “Have you ever heard that adage that ponders the age-old question of how many angels can dance on the head of a pin?”

“Vaguely,” Neal replied with a puzzled look.

Peter favored his partner with an intense stare. “Well, in a nutshell, it’s a sort of metaphor that means wasting time debating topics with no practical value while more important concerns should be in the forefront.”

“Okay, I’ll take your word for that,” Neal answered, still baffled where this was going.

Peter continued to peer steadily at Neal. “I believe I’ve been wasting time these last few weeks looking for my replacement to step in as your handler. I’ve talked to quite a few candidates, but none of them seemed right. They wouldn’t have a clue what makes you tick, at least not like I do. Our relationship didn’t just start when I got you out of prison. It started years before that while I was chasing you. Sometimes, I think I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go _that_ far,” Neal objected. “I think I still have my mysterious side.”

Peter sighed dramatically. “Buddy, I’ve seen all your highs and your lows and I have a great bit of insight into your past. I couldn’t just ride off into the sunset and leave you twisting in the wind. That’s a recipe for disaster. It happened before in your childhood, and it probably was responsible for shaping you into the man you are today. I couldn’t, in good conscience, perpetuate the abandonment cycle. I have to stay and see our thing through.”

“So, are you saying that you think you have to stay to keep me from self-destructing, Peter? Give me a little more credit than that,” Neal argued. “Live your life and I’ll be fine living mine. Take the promotion, grab your woman, and get out of Dodge while the getting out part is an option. Don’t derail your career for me.”

A fond smile found its way to Peter’s lips. “Neal, playing a martyr doesn’t suit your image. If I do as you’re advocating, I’d have to live with a lot of guilt if it all went pear-shaped, and then I’d never forgive myself. El and I have talked, and she gets it. A career is really just a day job, but a life is forever. My very wise better half also reminded me that things happen when the time is right, and if I have reservations about the timing of this opportunity, then it isn’t right for me.”

Neal scowled. “Peter, you’re putting a lot of responsibility on my shoulders.”

Peter grinned. “Exactly! My actions, or perhaps, my non-actions, are a way of guilting you into staying on the straight and narrow. Are you feeling the pressure yet?”

“You drive a hard bargain, Partner,” Neal admitted with a grimace.

“Yep, I do,” Peter agreed, “but I think you’re worth it, _Partner_. So now I guess all those tiny angels can stop tap dancing and get back to playing their harps!”


End file.
